


I Want Something Else (To Get me Through This Semi-Charmed Kind of Life)

by ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy



Series: Take This To Heart [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Manes is in a high school band, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jesse Manes Being an Asshole, M/M, Michael being an awkward being, Pining, because we need this, i mean the end of high school sort of, jesse manes deserves a warning of his own, major pining, more tags will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-18 05:09:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21588991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy/pseuds/ACaseOfUnstableEmpathy
Summary: He raises his head from the tips of his shoes and his eyes settle on a boy, exiting the bathroom before stopping at the water fountain. Michael stops in this tracks.Alex Manes presses his fingers against the silver button and water streams out from the spout. Black-pained fingernails stand out against the sterling background and it’s impossible to miss the woven bracelets that decorate the boy’s wrists. Several silver rings rest on his fingers adding an accent of flare. Alex leans down to take a sip from the fountain and Michael finds that his brain is refusing to operate. His thoughts come to a screeching halt. The waist of the skinny jeans tightly grip Alex’s sides, empathizing his the sharp jut of his hipbones.“Guerin,” oh shit, he noticed. “Done already?”
Relationships: Liz Ortecho/Kyle Valenti, Max Evans & Liz Ortecho, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: Take This To Heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555927
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello people!
> 
> This story is going to be a major beast. Please have patience with this work though, I'm trying to keep up with the chapters and post them when I deem appropriate. I have a blueprint on where I want this story to go and I really hope this story takes off. I've spent a lot of time brainstorming and coming up with ideas, so please share with your friends and recommend (it would mean so much to me)! 
> 
> I would love to thank the amazing [Meagn](https://irolltwenties.tumblr.com/) for cheering me on and encouraging me to create this masterpiece. She's been such a trooper and before I even spoke to her for the first time, I was an avid fan of her series,  
> [Til The Night](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416757) (I highly recommend it; it's brilliant). 
> 
> Anywho, I know the first chapter is kind of slow but trust me, things pick up kinda fast!
> 
> The title of this story is taken after Third Eye Blind's Semi-Charmed Life.

****

**June 2006**

The metal of his pencil’s ferrule lightly grinds against his teeth as he runs it across his incisors. An answers flies through his brain as he recalls it to the surface of his consciousness and he properly selects the one that would solve the equation. Compared to the other sheets of scrap paper that belong to his fellow classmates, Michael Guerin’s isn’t filled with mindless doodles as a way to refocus the mind. Instead, various mathematical problems are scribbled out in handwriting that many would consider chicken-scratch (but to be totally fair, his handwriting has the potential to be eligible if he puts effort into it). He’s about 2 questions away from being done and as anticipation grows, he forces himself to stay present. Filling in the corresponding answer on the bubble sheet, he moves on.

The environment around him is incredibly still. Heads are down and eyes are pinned on the work in front of them. He mentally calculates the last answer and then works out the math on the scrap to double check his work. Something isn’t adding up. Scratching his unruly curls, Michael pauses for a second to let possibilities cycle through his thought process. He re-works the problem a few times before finally coming to a conclusion that makes more sense. Marking the answer, he checks if the bubbles in the section are filled. He finishes first and it’s no surprise. Packing up his belongings, he slips his old pencil case into his worn backpack before striding up to the front of the classroom, test in hand.

A few heads glance up at him as he passes but he ignores their judging glances. Handing in the exit exam to the teacher, he only receives a glance before a gesturing hand indicates that he’s free to leave. Finally, it’s freedom. He’s out the door and enters the vacant hallway. It’s a ghost town right now but it’s all the better for him (one of the perks of being done extremely early). The entire school is his for the time being and he could practically do anything as long as he doesn’t get into too much trouble. Adjusting the straps of his backpack, he heads right towards the exit of the building. The sun’s blinding and he has to squint until his eyes balance to the sudden change in lighting. Clearing his throat and casting a gaze around his environment, there’s a sense of satisfaction that settles in his stomach. There’s no one around and it’s beautiful. The school looks different without anyone to occupy the grounds (with the exception of a few landscapers). The halls are vacant and actually enjoyable. He makes his way towards the parking lot, with a hand in his pocket toying with the keys of his truck.

Deciding to take a short cut, he enters the main building to get out of the heat for a short minute. The air conditioning hits him and there’s instantly a breath of relief that leaves him. His ratty sneakers tap lightly against the polished floor as he walks with a steady gate. He’s not in a rush to get anywhere and it’ll probably be a few hours before anyone else completes their exams. There’s perks to being a secret genius (however, he’s not sure if he qualifies it as a ‘secret’ anymore; basically everyone knows by now). He raises his head from the tips of his shoes and his eyes settle on a boy, exiting the bathroom before stopping at the water fountain. Michael stops in this tracks.

Alex Manes presses his fingers against the silver button and water streams out from the spout. Black-pained fingernails stand out against the sterling background and it’s impossible to miss the woven bracelets that decorate the boy’s wrists. Several silver rings rest on his fingers adding an accent of flare. Alex leans down to take a sip from the fountain and Michael finds that his brain is refusing to operate. His thoughts come to a screeching halt. The waist of the skinny jeans tightly grip Alex’s sides, empathizing his the sharp jut of his hipbones.

“Guerin,” _oh shit, he noticed._ “Done already?”

“Yeah.” Michael rubs the back of his neck to ease the tension and slight cramp there. “I already handed it in and everything.” He extended his arms with a chuckle. “I’m free!”

“Lucky you. I’m halfway through the science section and I already have an earth-shattering headache.” Alex runs a hand through his spiky bleached hair and Michael catches a glimpse of a single golden earring that hangs off his left earlobe. There’s a small nose ring and he finds his eyes drawn to it before Alex starts to speak again.

“I swear to God, I’m probably gonna end up hurling myself out the window if I don’t finish soon.” He rolls his dark brown eyes. “I swear I’m going to be mentally strained for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t think you want to be throwing yourself out of a window. Think about it, you’re on the ground floor. You’d be landing in a bush and pissing off a mama bird.”

Alex has to contain a burst of laughter, which he almost fails at and Michael finds his heart warming at the sight. Manes has always had that type of smile that could light up the darkest of rooms.

“Damn Guerin,” he lightly shakes his head. “You’re really something else.”

There’re stars in Alex’s eyes and Michael is mesmerized by them. They’re bright and full of vibrant life; beautiful browns that have hints of greens and hazels if one looks close enough. Black eye-liner adds a defiant characteristic to his slightly sharp features.

“Manes!”

Both of their shoulders visibly flinched and Alex tenses before glancing in the direction of the shout. A teacher leans against the open door to one of the classrooms, with crossed arms and a hardened expression. “Mrs. Maddock,” Alex answers. “Yes?”

“You haven’t finished the exam.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Well? Are you going to comeback and finish it? I could just write you off as fail.”

“I prefer you not.” Alex mutters before exhaling and glancing at Michael with one eye, “There’s uh...a gig tonight at the Wild Pony at 8:30 that I’m apart of. So...”

With that, he disappears into the classroom with Mrs. Maddock following close behind. Guerin lets disappointment settle and he has to push himself forward. Heading down the hallway, his eyes wander to where Alex entered and he has to sidetrack his mind to properly operate.

There is something about Alex Manes that constantly drags him in, it’s hypnotic and addictive; something that he can’t shake off or ignore. It gets under his skin, warming him from the inside out like an internal fire. Alex Manes is miracle that walked into Michael’s life at the Wild Pony one evening and touched his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He lets one of his legs bounce with the rhythm of London Beckoned Songs About Money by Panic! At the Disco, which plays on his earbuds. The room is stiflingly humid and sticky, making the entire atmosphere uncomfortable. Brandon Cobb, his lead guitarist mutters under his breath and paces back and forth. Elias Forthworth sits at a table, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone’s texts messages as he twirls one of his drumsticks with his fingers. There’s a knock at the door and Alex snaps to attention, tearing one earbud out of his ear, “Yeah?”  
> “Oh,” the barrier opens and a head pops in. “You guys ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh just some more of Michael pining and being sort of awkward as fuck.

H e lets one of his legs bounce with the rhythm of London Beckoned Songs About Money Written by Machines by Panic! At the Disco, which plays on his earbuds.The room is stiflingly humid and sticky, making the entire atmosphere uncomfortable. Brandon Cobb, his lead guitarist mutters under his breath and paces back and forth. Elias Forthworth sits at a table, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone’s texts messages as he twirls one of his drumsticks with his fingers. There’s a knock at the door and Alex snaps to attention, tearing one earbud out of his ear, “Yeah?”

“Oh,” the barrier opens and a head pops in. “You guys ready?” 

“Yep. Just about.” Alex is on his feet in a matter of seconds and unzipping his guitar case that’s leaningagainst the wall. His band-mates are already hurrying out the door as the man departs and Alex soon follows behind with extended strides with his acoustic guitar in his hands. As soon as he steps out of the room, the air conditioning is functioning and the temperature change feels wonderful to his lightly sweaty skin. He skips several stairs at a time before the light from the small stage nearly blinds him. Squinting, he clears his throat as he places his guitar strap across his chest. Elias is already seated behind the tiny drum-kit and Brandon’s busy tuning his own instrument. Alex casts his gaze onto the audience and gives a brief smile to the crowd. It’s a rather minimal gathering tonight of people at the bar top and various seats that are scattered around the space. 

He taps the microphone, “I hope you all are having a great evening and I don’t know about you, but I finished my stupid exam about 3 hours ago and I really need to relieve myself of the stress so here I am.” He strums his guitar once. “For first timers, we are the band, Striving Virtue and we’re regular performers at the Wild Pony. By the way, I’m Alex, Elias on drums, and Brandon on lead guitar. So...please enjoy.” 

As soon as Michael steps through the bar, the atmosphere of music hits his ears and his heart feels alive. The whispers in his mind suddenly come to a halt as he hears Alex’s distinct voice. It’s beautifully tuned and blends perfectly with the instruments present on stage. A soft smile makes its present known across his features as he carefully navigates to the bar-top and takes a seat there. Alex appears to be at home on the platform, sitting on a barstool holding his guitar as one hand strums and his other fingers move across the fretboard. With every movement of his digits, his silver rings catch the lights of the stage, causing a reflection to dart across the room. 

His head is bowed and the leg that’s propped up on the bar of the stool, gently taps out the rhythm. A steady drumbeat assists in keeping everyone on beat. Alex finishes the short bridge before turning his attention back onto the microphone, 

“ _You cry out in your sleep, all my failings exposed_

_And there’s a taste in my mouth as desperation takes hold_

_Just that something so good, just can’t function no more...”_

Michael recognizes the song as one that he’s heard Alex humming the hallways from time-to-time. Alex tends to ramble on about the bands that he cherishes but he has Gurein has no problem listening to him. Joy Division’s most popular song, Love Will Tear Us Apart has everyone tapping their feet to the rhythm. Alex is flawless on stage, with fluid movements and a perfectly crafted stage presence. At certain angles, the stage lights catch the silver flash of his jewelry, creating a reflection that bounces around the room like an overexcited spirit. Without the excitement of an electric guitar, a steady life of energy that’s been cast around the atmosphere. 

“He’s really good, Phill,” a woman beside Michael comments to her male colleague. “You think he has a chance in the big leagues?”

The man named Phill takes a sip of beer before answering, “Possibly. But it’s like a cage match once a band makes it big. Everyone’s at each other’s throats and stress levels make things dangerous between members and bands.” He gently shakes his head.

“But he’s still young, there’s a chance.”

The conversation ends abruptly as he chooses not to respond. Michael’s never had a profound interest in music, not as impactful as Alex’s anyway. As he takes in the performance, he can’t help the smile that crosses his features. Alex Manes looks simply at peace, with closed eyes and head held slightly low as he strums the closing of the song. In school his reputation exists as the rebel with a hell of a temper but outside of the classrooms and hallways, he’s a fallen nephilim with a heart of gold and a beautiful melody. 

The music ends and Michael’s suddenly on his feet, the first to burst into an applause and a whistle. The grin that crosses Alex’s face is genuine and he motions to each of his bandmates as they bow before he follows in suit. 

“Dude that was awesome.” A massive grin is spread across Michael’s features and his bright hazel eyes seemed to be illuminated by the honesty that radiates from him. “Absolutely fucking amazing as per usual.”

“Oh, the flattery.” Alex sarcastically pretends to faint with the back of a hand to his forehead before returning the kindness. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

“No problem and I do speak the truth.”

The bar is free of civilians and the two of them preform cheers with their beer bottles. 

“Boys,” Maira DeLuca announces her appearance as she suddenly exits the kitchen and around from the bar-top to seat herself on top of it. “Who gave you the beer?”

“Your mother,” Michael snorts before taking a sip and Alex raises an eyebrow. “Everyone drinks, DeLuca. It’s high school, or more accurately, the end of high school.”

“Maira, where’s Liz?” inquires Alex as he glances at his best friend. “She said that she would attend but she missed the entire show.” 

“I think she had something to do with Rosa at the last second. Unless if she comes in later.” Maira shrugs and exhales. “Rosa’s gotten into a lot of trouble with the law lately, but Liz would have texted me if something was up.”

“I mean there’s no harm in swinging by,” Alex offers. “I’m sure she’d enjoy a private show to herself. And Guerin can come with me.”

Taken off guard, Michael blinks for a moment as if unsure if he had heard that correctly. “U-uh sure. Yeah, I’d be more than happy to tag along and I can drop you at your place afterwards.”

“I can pay for gas money if needed.”

“Nah, don't worry about it. The tank’s full.” Michael pushes himself off the leather seat of the booth before fishing out his keys from his pocket. “Ready, Gerard Way?” 

Maria bursts out laughing, “You should have seen him the other day. Full make-up and everything, even the dark eyeshadow.” 

Alex snickers before following Michael out of the bar with his hands shoved casually into his black torn jeans and his guitar bag slung over his back.“ ‘Gerard Way’? Really, Guerin.”

“Oh c’mon, you’re practically Gerard Way.” He receives a gentle elbow nudge. 

“I’m missing a few elements. But whatever you say.” 

Opening the door to the truck, Alex slips into the passenger seat as Michael situated himself behind the wheel and sticks the key into the ignition. The engine chuckles before the smooth sound of life meets their ears. As he reverses, Michael suddenly hits the gas jerking the car back and then zooming out of the parking lot. The sweet sound of Alex’s laughter is like music to his audits and he glances at him with a grin, “You okay there?”

“Yeah, I’m perfect.” 

The response of, ‘Hell yeah, you are,’ hangs heavy on Michael’s tongue, but he fights back the impulse. “Good, I just wanna make sure I didn’t startle you too badly.”

“Are you kidding?” Alex questions before unzipping a compartment of his instrument’s bag and pulling out a small, neatly-rolled cylinder. “I’m all good here.” Holding it between his two fingers as Michael rolls to a stop at a traffic light, he arches his hips slightly off of the seat attempting to grab something from his back pocket. 

Michael stares at the sight watching the rise of the other’s waist and the bit of skin that’s exposed as his shirt rides up. He can make out the slight jut of his hipbone and the way the illumination of the streetlights dance shadows across his figure. His fingers itch to grace the patch of golden skin and feel the shiver that’ll follow. 

**_HONK HONK!_ **

He flinches and awkwardly clears his throat, glancing in the rear view mirror at the driver behind him before turning his eyes on the road. Pressing the gas pedal, he drives through the green light, applying a bit more pressure to distance himself from the individual behind him. Alex is properly sitting in the seat now with the cylinder between his lips with the end being held with his teeth. He lights it a the silver lighter and inhales deeply. Rolling down Alex’s window slightly, Michael can spot the slight puff of smoke in his peripheral vision and the stench of cannabis is intense enough to make him cough slightly. 

“You don’t mind right?” Alex asks. “I know it’s late and I should have asked first.”

“Nah don’t worry. It’s fine.” Michael chuckles and Alex raises an eyebrow, “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know. I just never expected you to be the type that smokes joints.”

“Just ‘coz my old man is in the military doesn’t mean I can’t live a little.”

“Alex Manes you are such a rebel.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” He takes another puff, blowing out through his nose like a dragon or an enraged bull. Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes with the joint held between his teeth. 

Liz Ortecho greets both of them with a suffocating embrace and a beaming smile. She turns to Alex and drapes an arm over his shoulder as they head into towards the counter of the diner. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your show tonight.”

“It’s cool, I get it. But I came here because I figured a private show would lighten your evening.”

She takes a seat on a table and Alex carefully hoists himself up onto the counter along with his instrument, which he unzips. Resting his back on the overhang, he arranges his hands properly on his guitar and gives it a simple strum. Michael situates himself in a chair and leans an arm against the table. With the lights dimmed, the counter lights offer a spotlight for Alex, a halo around his head like an angel. He clears his throat and glances out onto the audience, “Any requests?”

“Yes,” a voice suddenly comes from the back door. “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby.” Rosa Ortecho comes marching into the scene with purposeful steps and a confident stride. Her left bang is dyed a bright shade of hot pink and her sharp eyes settle upon the visitors with a steady smile. 

“Of course,” Alex laughs. “It’s your song. You have any, Michael?”

“He doesn’t listen to music! If anything, I think it’s country. I bet you.” Rosa says with a smirk. “I will actually pay $40 to hear Alex do a country song with the accent and everything.”

Alex shoots her a look with narrowed eyes. “Shh or else I will throw this salt shaker at you.” He holds up the object besides him, his fingers easily curling around the glass container and his black-painted nails contrasting against the white grains of salt inside. “Let him speak.” It’s an empty threat, but anyone who wasn’t as familiar with Alex’s behaviors would have been taken back. 

“Alright alright,” she backs away with her hands raised and a smile plastered across her features. “I give in.”

He gently places the shaker back and all eyes turn to Michael, “Miss. Murder by AFI is entertaining. Ya think you can pull it off?” He smirks and Alex scoffs,

“You’re kidding, right? I can do that in my sleep.”

“Can I assume the Panic!At The Disco song?” Liz questions, raising her hand like a student. 

“Yeah, be my guest!”

“I Write Sins Not Tragedies?”

Alex nods and she give an enthusiastic whoop, thrusting a fist into the air, “And I am victorious again!”

“Anyway,” Rosa leans against a wall with her arms crossed. “Are we getting a show or what, Manes?”

The truck come to a stop and Alex glances out the window at his house. The lights are off and there’s a chance that his father and Flint are asleep. It slightly eases his anxiety as he unbuckles his seatbelt and thanks Michael for the ride. Slinging his instrument’s case over his shoulder, Alex makes his way towards the front door, but Michael doesn’t depart. He watches the rear view he receives of the other boy, admiring the slope of his...

The door swings open just before Alex could insert his house key and he nearly jumps out of his skin. Startled it takes him a minute to process his father’s looming presence. Michael watches as a few words are exchanged between them, Alex’s own voice sounding so small compared to his father’s booming and authoritarian tone. Something about a curfew is mentioned before the two of them disappear inside.

An uncomfortable shift within his stomach makes him feel unsettled as if he’s not making sense of the current scene that he just witnessed. However, he settles for ignoring it and carrying on with his evening. He’ll most likely see Alex tomorrow anyway and if he still has any lingering questions, he could ask them. He reverses out of the street and then skillfully veers out onto the main road, heading towards the auto-yard. 

* * *

Running his finger down the spine of a book as he reads the printed title, he retrieves it off the shelf before skimming through the pages with his eye taking in the words written. With a slight groan of frustration, he places the book back before stepping back a bit with a murmured, “Son of a bitch.” He tilts his head to the side, reading the titles from a slightly different angle. 

“You having trouble there?” A voice asks from behind the shelf and Michael follows up the question with silence as confusion settles. His widen hazel eyes are locked on the bookshelf, with the concept failing to catch up on time before he speaks, “Uh...asks the talking bookshelf?” 

Soft laughter follows from the shelf and Michael feels like face-palming himself for his stupidity. “Hi Alex.” He chuckles. 

“Damn it took you a minute.” 

Michael leans in and peeks an eye through one of the spaces between books to see Alex peering back at him. “So l are you having trouble? What’re you looking for?”

“Some book. I don’t know if they have it here.” 

“Helpful,” comes the sarcastic response. “I could probably help you. I’m here all the time. Now, whatcha looking for?”

“ _The Elegant Universe_ by Brian Greene.” 

“Isn’t that about parallel universes?”

“String theory, yeah.”

“Huh, interesting. It’s sort of a surreal concept but I can’t say that I’m a believer.”

“Not many people are, I’m just looking for something to sort of pass the time.”

“You are a big nerd.” Alex laughs before walking towards Michael’s isle, appearing at the end of it. “So do you need help?”

Alex tries to casually lean against the nearest bookshelf, failing to hide the wince as he does so. Michael scratches his head, wondering whether or not he should accept the invitation for assistance. Alex may have enough on his plate already and the last thing he wants to do is trouble him further. He’s beginning to think so hard that his mind is starting to hurt, thoughts blurring together and creating jumbled words that fail to make any sense. His brain is pulsating against the inside of his skull and causing a persistent ache.

He needs to stop thinking so deeply. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s not an over-thinker, so why does this only happen when Alex is present? It’s almost frustrating. “Uh okay, fine.” He breathes. “Help would be nice.”

Alex smiles and glances at the categorization of the isles they’re currently in before grumbling something under his breath that Michael isn’t able to decipher. “Come on,” he says and Michael blinks for a moment before realizing that he’s already been left behind. 

“Hey, wait a second!” He scurries after him, nearly tripping over his own feet. The other students glance at him with an annoyed expression and furrowed brows. “Shhh,” one of them says, but he just makes a face and carries on. 

Leave it to Alex to look cool with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he walks through a library. This is so not his scene, yet his affect to draw Michael’s attention hasn’t faded. 

“It should be just around here,” Alex breathes before entering an isle and running his fingers across the spines of books as he walks. “Ah.” Selecting one and carefully taking it off the shelf, he hands it out to Guerin, who accepts it. Their fingers brush and instantly, he can feel a slight fluff heating his cheeks. Clearing his throat to push aside his rising awkwardness, he lowers his head and glances at the book. “Uh. Thanks, Alex.” He settles his attention on him. “How’re you so familiar with this place? No offense, but the school library is not a place I can picture you spending a bunch of time here.”

Alex shrugs. “Truthfully, I got a job here when I was a Sophomore. But I’m sure it was weird for people who see someone like me here. Anyway, I still know where books are, or at least I have a general sense. They haven’t changed much.”

“Huh, do you have a job now?”

A shake of his head answers the question, “Nope. But I am thinking about getting one. I’m not quite sure yet. But I can easily assume that you have one. It’s either you have a job at Sander’s Junkyard or you just spend a lot of time there.”

Michael gawks. His jaw drops. Holy shit, he’s observant. “H-How’d you know?” 

“Simple. You sometimes have engine grease underneath your fingernails and on your jeans sometimes.”

“Damn, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t realize that I was such an open book.” He chuckles dryly.

“Actually, you’re far from one. Appearance only says so much about someone.”

“Wiseass.”

Alex laughs, “I’m a fucking owl.” The tone suddenly turns slightly sour as his expression changes to something a bit more reflective with sad undertones. “Kyle used to call me Owl.”

Michael can’t believe what he’s hearing. Kyle, like Kyle Valenti, the QB of the football team? Astonishment hits him like a motherfucking freight-train and he needs God (if there even is one) to slap the pause button because his mind is cycling. “What the fuck?” 

Alex is thrown into a small fit of laughter, with one hand covering his mouth to suppress his noise. In the meantime, Michael’s lost. Did he really just hear that correctly? None of this feels real, except for the glorious sound of Alex’s giggles. 

“I-I don’t see what so funny.”

“Guerin, the look on your face was priceless.” Alex collects himself, before taking a long exhale. “Yeah, Kyle and I used to be friends, scratch that; best friends. But of course, that isn’t the case anymore.”

“Because Kyle’s a homophobe?”

Alex raises an eyebrow with his eyes appearing black, and Michael feels himself mentally shrink back into his little hole. 

“Basically, he’s a massive dick. And it’s not a rumor. I’m gay and unfortunately, people aren’t accepting of that. I don’t know how the rumor started but I’m assuming that Kyle had something to do with it.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Michael hugs the book close his chest. He can’t find what to say; words aren’t easily coming to him right now. A strange settling of guilt settles in his stomach and he can’t pinpoint the reason why. 

“Don’t worry about it. It was sometime ago. I’ve kind of gotten over it. Honestly, I’m not afraid of Kyle. However, I must say that when we were friends, he was good to me. He meant well and he was always willing to protect me against bullies in lower school.” Alex continues walking and Michael’s feet move with him. 

Michael nods slightly before choosing to change the subject, attempting to smoothly transition topics. “But uh, what’re you doing over the weekend?”

“Probably nothing too exciting.” He starts heading towards the exit of the library and Michael stays by his side. 

“No gigs?”

“Nope. The band is taking a break this weekend. I figured that we all deserve it.” Alex takes his hand with such a suddenness that Michael has to suppress a flinch. From his back pocket, he catches the sight of a Sharpie being drawn and he watches every movement that follows.

He puts the cap in his mouth, letting his teeth hold the object before using his hand to pull the pen from its shelter. Skillfully, he readjusts his grip on it flipping it around almost like a drumstick. Nimble and elegant fingers are quick to assume the proper hold and he writes something down on Michael’s palm, the sensation tickling his nerves. He’s almost awestruck. Alex withdraws and hands the pen to Michael, realizing his hand and holding out his own. “You’re turn.”

Taking the Sharpie, he jots down his own number on the surface of Alex’s skin before handing it back to him. With the pen capped, Alex stows it back before the door automatically opens once it senses their movement, and heads instantly to the skateboard rack to retrieve his. 

“I didn’t realize you skateboard. Or at least, I’ve noticed but I just…uh sort of never connected the dots?” God, he feels dumb as fuck as they head towards the parking lot together. 

“I guess we never really noticed each other until recently. Odd, right?” Alex chuckles before putting down his board and hoping on, planting one foot to prevent himself from moving. “Anyway, I’ll see you around. Text me.” With that, he pushes off against the concrete of the sidewalk and shifts his weight to propel forward. 

Once Alex is out of sight, Michael looks down at his palm smiling to himself as his eyes trace over the numbers that are scribbled there and a signature that is signed at the bottom. He feels suddenly warmed by the realization and a giddy feeling accompanies him as he heads towards his truck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is so stupid.”  
> “Yeah, I believe you’ve said that about 1,000 times already, Michael.” Max Evans grumbles as he turns off the car. Beside him, Isobel is fixing her blonde hair in the rear-view mirror and Michael can see her eyes rolling in annoyance even though there’s a slight smirk across her features.  
> “No I mean, it’s stupid how you two managed me to drag me to this dumb party.” Michael grumbles, crossing his arms like a pouting toddler.  
> “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Max offers as he opens the door. “Isobel’s technically dragging the two of us here.”  
> “She only dragging me because of your truck.”  
> The twins and Michael step out of the vehicle and they head towards the house. Isobel greets people as she enters and Max sticks close to her side. However, the first thing that Michael does it let himself take in his new surroundings. He can feel the beat of the thunderous music in his ribcage as vibrations that rattle his internal organs. A few teenagers near his age, are playing beer pong on a table and their cheers can almost be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael's bravery is showing, Kyle's a fucking dick, Alex is just...being Alex, Max is pining for Liz...what else is new?

“T his is so stupid.”

“Yeah, I believe you’ve said that about 1,000 times already, Michael.” Max Evans grumbles as he turns off the car. Beside him, Isobel is fixing her blonde hair in the rear-view mirror and Michael can see her eyes rolling in annoyance even though there’s a slight smirk across her features. 

“No I mean, it’s stupid how you two managed me to drag me to this dumb party.” Michael grumbles, crossing his arms like a pouting toddler. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Max offers as he opens the door. “Isobel’s technically dragging the two of us here.” 

“She only dragging me because of your truck.”

The twins and Michael step out of the vehicle and they head towards the house. Isobel greets people as she enters and Max sticks close to her side. However, the first thing that Michael does it let himself take in his new surroundings. He can feel the beat of the thunderous music in his ribcage as vibrations that rattle his internal organs. A few teenagers near his age, are playing beer pong on a table and their cheers can almost be heard. 

Michael settles for pouring himself a cup of beer and finds himself yearning for something possibly stronger. However, it seems like the bottle of vodka is currently being used for shots. The odds of him successfully stealing it are extremely low so he decides to reside in his gradual disappointment. Leaning against the wall, he watches the actives taking place from afar. Isobel is deep in conversation with the host, Louise Gladee who invited her and once again, he blends in perfectly with the background like wallpaper.

Michael Guerin does not belong in such a chaotic atmosphere, yet he’s here and already regretting just about everything. People are drunk and some are swaying as they cackle about some joke their friend said. There’s girl pressed up against a corner in the living room, making out with her male counterpart. Public indecency much? Taking a breath, Michael moves further into the disgusting landscape, being sure not to step on any fallen red Solo cups. He feels absolutely gross and unclean and he wants nothing more than to leave. Except he can’t, but he still manages to locate Max sitting on the stairs that leads to the second floor with his head buried in the book he brought along. 

There’s a disruption from the second floor, causing Max to scoot over after turning his head to glance at the person coming down. Time abruptly stops and Michael feels a breath caught in his throat. Alex Manes touches down onto the floor with a presence that makes a statement. He’s in his usual attire of black jeans, eyeliner, and nail-polish, and a grey band shirt. Carrying himself in a rushed manner, he snatches the bottle of vodka as he passes by, ignoring the complaints that sound from the group of teenagers there. He takes a swig, lightly grimacing at the burn it leaves in his throat as the alcohol travels. Tipping it back, he swallows a few more sips before he catches Michael staring at him. “Guiern,” he says, whipping his mouth with the back of his wrist. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He flashes a grin and Michael can’t help but feel as if it’s currently forced. 

“I can say the same about you,” he motions to the bottle. “Rough night already?” 

“You have no idea what I just saw. And quite frankly, I want to bleach my eyes.” 

“That _bad_ , huh?”

“Oh yeah,” he takes another swig. “ ‘ _Bad_ ’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Michael’s thoughts are in the middle of constructing a proper follow-up when a door slamming from upstairs makes them both jump. 

“MANES!”

Everyone freezes. Alex’s eyes widen and he quickly hands the bottle to Michael. “Oh shit.” 

“What’d you do?”

“Uh I might have pissed off Valenti.” 

“ _‘Might’_?” 

“I can’t explain, I should-”

Firm footsteps seem to echo as Kyle Valenti makes his entrance, standing at the base of the stairs, his stance firm and tall. “Where the hell are you going, Manes?”

Max has taken the courtesy to scramble out of the way and find a place to watch from afar. In an honest sense, Michael can’t blame him and almost wishes that the was in the same position. He watches Alex swallows and turns swiftly around on his heels to face Kyle, head-on. Valenti can be damn intimidating to those he thinks are lower than him. His posture screams confidence and the terrifying consequences that follow if someone talks back. 

However, Alex Manes is spitfire and unyielding. He’s fire at its highest setting and brilliant like the luminescence from an untamable blaze. “Home.” He responds cooly, his voice even and simple. 

“I don’t think we were finished with our conversation.”

“Well, I deemed it done when I walked out.”

“God, you’re suck a fucking prick. Don’t you have better things to do with that mouth of your other than waste it on me?”

Alex’s shoulders bristle like a cat’s fur standing on end. “The only prick in this room is you.”

Michael sees the way tension is intentionally pulled into Kyle’s form and instantly, he knows what’s coming and can’t warn Alex against the solid fist that makes contact with his face. 

Alex stumbles back with a soft groan, tasting blood. 

All eyes are upon them now and it seems like everyone’s holding their breath, waiting for the next stages of this fight. Kyle’s intoxicated and that fact is clear, given the way his cheeks are flushed. Neither of them are exactly sound-minded right now. Alex is slightly hunched over as he takes a moment to recover, with his brown eyes narrowed and looking up to Valenti. Alex’s tongue briefly flicks out to catch blood from his split lip. He shifts his weight forward as if ready to spring. Michael’s ready to intervene and he can feel himself starting to push off the wall.

Sirens from outside send everyone into a crazed panic and the fight is forgotten. It’s particularly everyone for themselves and Max is pushing through the crowds, trying to reach his siblings. Alex’s brain suddenly seems to catch up with reality and he snatches Michael’s wrist before tugging him outside, blending in with the chaotic stream of teenagers who are breaking out into a full on run to avoid arrest. 

There’re a few excited whoops from some of the drunk boys who seem way too thrilled for the occasion. Peeling away from the main group, Alex and Michael are heading into the backyard, sticking to the shadows to help hide them from searching eyes. The yells of various officers can be heard, getting fainter with each distance that’s traveled. The grass tickles Michael’s ankles as he runs. The ground is still wet from the brief rain-shower that happened only a a few minutes ago and he stays light on his feet in order to prevent himself from sinking into the mud. “Oh fuck,” the sight of a wooden fence stops them and standing at the base of the barrier, Michael glances back behind them. 

“Over there!” A yell from an officer behind them is an early warning system and the shine of flashlights are suddenly upon them. 

“Oh fucking shit,” Michael gulps. He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his night in a cell and apparently, the same goes for Alex who’s already searching for a way to escape. 

“Quickly,” he braces his back against the wood and turns to face Michael. “Climb on.” The height of the fencing is just high enough for Michael to reach the top if he’s on someone’s shoulders. His brain clicks into overdrive and Alex assumes the bracing position with his hands creating cup to help him up.

“Stop right there!” The voice screams again.

They’re running out of time and Michael allows himself to be raised, putting weight onto Alex’s shoulders and extending himself upwards. A groan sounds below him and he glances downwards with a bubble of concern forming in his chest. Shrugging it off, he pulls himself over and climbs onto the other side. His feet touch the ground and he backs up, heart racing in his chest. Anticipation chews at his patience like a horse at the bit. A black shape manages to scrabble up, resting at the top of the fence only for a moment to swing its legs over. 

Gracefully, Alex lands and the two of them resume their escape. Once they reach the opposite street, Michael can’t hold back a laugh, “Holy shit, I can’t believe we just did that.”

“Pretty exciting, huh?” Alex grins and playfully punches his arm. 

“Yeah, you seem like you do this all the time, escaping the cops and everything.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. I bet you can’t even guess how many times I’ve had to run from the law.”

Michael’s hazel eyes light up, appearing like illuminated ambers in the glow of the streetlights. “Uh…27?”

“Damn, how in the world did you get that correct?” Alex’s astonishment radiates simply through his voice and expressive twin browns. “Maybe I’m psychic,” he teases and kicks an empty crushed soda can across the deserted street. “You may never know.” There’s a moment in which Manes gives a soft smile and Michael responds with one of his own, his brown curl appearing like a golden halo in the glow of the lights above. 

“You are truly something else, Michael Guerin.”

Butterflies seem to suddenly take flight in his chest and he finds himself in awe. Alex in all his glory has the capability of constantly surprising him and it’s absolutely extraordinary. 

“Anyway, text me tomorrow,” Alex turns around as he starts to walk backwards and away from Michael with the intention of heading home. “We should do something exciting. I think Maria’s mom was going to take Liz and I to the drive-in. Maybe you should tag along.”

“Okay yeah, that sounds pretty fun.”

“Well, until tomorrow then, Michael. Oh and,” Alex flashes a wink. 

“Don’t let the cops catch you on the way out.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Home, unless if you have somewhere else we could go.”

A lightbulb seems to suddenly go off. “Yeah, I do actually. Is your skateboard at home?” 

Alex nods, with a raised eyebrow. “What’re you planning in that genius mind of yours?”

“You’ll see. I do need you to grab your skateboard.”

Michael makes note of how Alex slightly chews his bottom lip as if considering the request. Without Max’s truck this might prove difficult to pull off, but he’s confident in his abilities. “I can pick you up around the corner of your house. I gotta grab my truck and some things.”

“Guerin, that’s a pretty lengthy walk.”

“Yeah? So is your path home from this place. But if you want to make this a little more entertaining, I guess we could hold a race to see who makes it to the pick-up point fastest.”

Alex flashes him a grin, “Challenge accepted. You’re on and you’re absolutely going to loose.” 

“We’ll see about that, Manes.”

* * *

Alex easily climbs the low wired fence of his backyard. The old toolshed rests in his peripheral vision as he carefully navigates through the yard, being sure not to suddenly sent off the motion sensors. Often times, he’ll stay in the shed when he can’t bear to stay in the house after a brutal beating. It’s rather spacious and sturdy for having existed for ages. The distance between the shack and the house is a very long one, covered by at least a half of a football field of grass. In the summers when Alex was young, his father used to force his sons to a form of bootcamp, meant to ‘strengthen’ their muscles and survival skills. From hosting brother-against-brother wrestling matches (which Alex would always loose) to being forced to use weighted chains to haul tractor tires until his legs literally gave out, numerous memories are stored here in the very fabric of the earth. 

He hosts himself up onto the roof by using a recycling bin as extra height to grab the overhang of the looming structure. His bruised ribs scream in disagreement to his movements and he has to grit his teeth together to prevent himself from letting out a pained scream. Standing firmly on the roof, he opens his window from the outside and slips easily inside. Anxiety thumps hard in his chest, setting himself in a close state of panic. If his father wakes up…no, he can’t let himself bail out now. He’s so close. Swallowing back the pit of nervousness, he pushes forward, re-calibrating his brain to focus. 

Posters on the wall commemorate the music artists and bands who have found a special place in his heart. Panic! At The Disco and My Chemical Romance are perfectly aligned next to each other near to the full length mirror with Hawthorne Heights and Jack’s Mannequin are on both sides of his desk. In the corner, there’s various rolls of other posters that have yet to be displayed. Textbooks lay strewn across the surface of his desk, along with notebooks and papers. His eyes drift to the closed door and he grabs the skateboard that’s leaning against the wall. Tucking it under his arm, he hurries towards the window and exits. The descent is trickier, but he manages to make it onto the earth again without breaking a bone. He can hear the blood racing in his ears along with his rapid heartbeat as he backs away. A sureness builds, swelling a sense of confidence in his chest. As he hurries towards the edge of the Manes’ territory, he cuts through the light line of bushes that separate his property from the sidewalk. It’s an easy passage that avoids anymore strain on his ribs or having to scale obstacles. The branches do very little to deter him as he easily parts through and gives a relieved exhale as his feet hit the concrete. 

Alex lets a song play in his head, allowing it to cycle through his mental playlist as he walks. The houses around him are dark, with their residents fast asleep. He’s never made friends with any of his neighbors and truth be told, he’s failed to see any reason as to why he even should. Making friends required simply too much effort and he’s quite settled with the group of friends he does have. As he nears the curb, he can make out the silhouette of a familiar truck and a person leaning against it. Hurrying his strides, he can’t stop the grin that finds its way across his face as Michael comes into view. 

“Well looks like I win,” Guerin laughs before slipping into the driver’s seat as Alex enters beside him, reaching around to put his skateboard in the back. His eyes catch the sight of a label on a 6-pack of bottles and he raises an eyebrow as he faces forward again, “You bought beer?” There’s a slight jolt as Michael reverses his vehicle. “How? Where the fuck did you get the fake?”

“I’m not telling you my secrets. They make someone interesting.”

“Fine, keep your…mysteries. I’ll find out eventually.” 

Michael softly hums before suddenly veering out onto the main road, managing to cut in front of another car. The abruptness makes Alex side to the opposite side slightly, with a thrilled laugh. A horn sounds behind them and he just casually flips his middle finger out the window, causing Michael to cackle. The aggravated driver speeds up and passes by, shooting them a brief glare. 

“Do you even know where we’re going?” Alex questions, running a hand through his hair, pleased when several strands finally stand up in a way he deems appropriate. 

“Yeah, I do. I’ve passed by the park a few times so don’t worry, we’re not going to be lost.”

“It seems like a good idea though, getting lost for a while.”

“Yeah, it does. A nice escape from reality is exactly what I planned for tonight. But we’re not going to be lost, not tonight.”

Michael seats himself on the high ramp as Alex rests his board against the railing and joins him. Popping open a cap from a bottle of beer, the hiss of pressure releasing echos in their ears. He hands the beverage to Alex who accepts it with a soft murmured “Thank you,” and takes a swig.

Michael takes a drink of his own, casting his eyes up to the sky. The evening is quiet and the skies are clear, with the stars fully visible and a white crescent moon stares down from the heavens. 

He leans back slightly, letting his free hand support his weight. “I stole it.”

Alex blinks, his brain momentarily failing to find the context. “What?”

“The beer. I stole it.”

“Michael, how?”

“I’m skilled in the mystical art.” 

Alex swallows another mouthful before giving a light smile. “That’s kind of cool. I only tried shoplifting once and never did it again. I could have gotten away with it if Nathaniel hadn’t ratted me out to Dad.”

“Nathaniel’s your…older brother, right?”

“Nathaniel Harlan Manes, the eldest Manes brother. He’s not around much anymore though, he’s overseas in Afghanistan.”

“What’s his job? I know he’s in the military, but more specifically.”

“He’s a Second Lieutenant in the Marines. He’s an actual asshole, second in line behind Dad.”

“So what’s the story with your single shoplifting experience?”

“Remember that old record store, Kevin’s?”

Michael nods, “The one that went out of business about a few years ago?”

“Yep. Nathan brought me there to check out the place and I strayed from him. I ended up finding the new Green Day album that had just been released at the time. I knew that I couldn’t afford it since I was in charge at buying my own stuff. I gave into my impulse and attempted to steal it when Nathan found me. I went home album-less and Nathan told Dad. If I recall correctly,” Alex glances upwards as if trying to summon a memory to the front of his mind. “I think I had to kneel on sugar crystals for an hour and a half, among other things. You’d be surprised how much those suckers hurt.”

Michael almost chokes on his beer, catching himself rather elegantly as his brain processes the information and hits a roadblock. However, the pieces are slowly starting to come together; it explains why Alex disappears for several days at a time during school days. “Holy shit,” Michael breathes, lowering his head. Maybe they have a bit more in common than he originally thought. Throughout the years, he’s noticed the various limps that Alex tries to hide or the numerous bruises on his body but he’s never dared to ask about them. Apart of him always assumed that it had been Kyle and the rest of his pack. A strange settling of guilt plants itself in his stomach. “I-I didn’t know.”

“Not many people know. Maria and Liz, obviously but that’s about it.” Alex fidgets with his fingers, not daring to seek out Michael’s eyes. “It’s not something I like to express.”

“I get that,” a pause. “I relate you know.”

“What? You relate to what exactly?”

“Feeling pain by those who you expect to love and cherish you.”

Alex blinks. 

“I’m not 100% blood-related to Isobel and Max, but I’m thinking that maybe our mother had an affair or something,” he shakes his head before continuing. “But we were dropped off at an adoption center and Max and Isobel were chosen by the Evans. Obviously, I wasn’t so I basically bounced around in the foster system and I’ve had my fair share of…unfortunate run-ins with people who didn’t treat me right. I guess you can’t predict your families.” 

Alex is silent as he swirls his beer, watching as the liquid sloshes around in the bottle, but Michael can see the gears in his mind working so he takes the time to ask a question. “But uh, why’d you tell me about what your dad does to you? You’re clearly not very outspoken about this and…I don’t know why you’d tell me this.”

Alex takes a lengthy swig of his drink, letting a warm feeling resonate in his stomach from the alcohol before choosing to answer, “It’s because I trust you. I’ve sort of always trusted you, I just…haven’t been too direct in showcasing it. But I guess that day when I asked you if you could watch my phone was an appropriate start. I don’t tell many people because I don’t want them to get caught up in my problems and I’d rather not burden anyone.”

Michael gives a laugh, amusement rising suddenly like a bubble. “I don’t find you to be a burden.” He turns his gaze to Alex and the two of them end up locking eyes. Awkwardness swells in him as he notices how those deep twin deep browns house varying shades of chestnut, with some lighter or darker than others. There’s a contrast that’s truly beauty and unique. What would they look like with the reflection of multi-colored lights? Would they be the same like they appear on stage? Snapping out of his trance, his breath is cut short. When the fuck did Alex get so physically close to him? Shit. SHIT NOPE. He clears his throat, turning his eyes away. 

“I have another question,” Michael breaks the ice again. Where is this bravery coming from? It’s addicting, just as Alex Manes seems like his new drug. As soon as he feels like he has the attention, he continues, “I was wondering if you’d want to go to prom with me? I just remembered it about…two seconds ago.”

Alex’s jaw actually drops and Michael has to contain himself from breaking out into a full fit of laughter (and possibly throwing himself off the ramp by accident). The response is instantaneous and he doesn’t have to worry about the crushing anticipation, “Yeah, I-I would love to. Honestly, I was kind of waiting for you ask me.”

“You were?”

Alex nods with a chuckle. “Yep. You don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring at me in classes or at lunch?”

Michael flushes red. “Uh- yeah. Uh.”

“Don’t worry. It’s okay. I love the attention and I’m flattered.” Alex giggles and Michael’s heart rises in his chest. Bravery reaches a high point and he suddenly feels as if he could do anything. Well, maybe almost everything. “Alex?”

“Hm?”

“Uh,” a pit of nervousness suddenly lodges itself between his courage. He feels dizzy, locked in the gaze of Alex’s sharp eyes. “I really _really_ like you.” _Heart please don’t fail me now. What the fuck? Anastasia? Then would that make Alex my Dimitri? Oh my god. Stop._ “I’m not good at this at all,” Michael toys with his fingers, fidgeting with his thumbs. “I mean more than just an invitation to prom, which I wouldn’t normally attend.” He’s waiting for Alex to leave, to get tired of his rambling, but he’s very patient and it puts a sense of ease in Michael. “I’m not Max and maybe that’s a good thing because I would have written some terrible love poem. But what I’m asking,” he exhales deeply. “I think I’m in love with you. I mean…not that I think, I _know_ this for a fact. I can barely stand in your presence and not think about the butterflies in my stomach.

You’re probably the most amazing person I’ve ever met and you may not feel the same way I do, but I remember when I first set eyes on you and I remember not being able to breathe.”

“Guerin, are you asking me out?” Alex chuckles lightly. 

“Yes, yeah, I am.”

The gentle laugh that follows is beautiful and even if Michael’s turned down, it’s not going to deter him from trying to win the heart that he’s so in love with. 

“I feel the same way about you, Michael. I guess maybe I’m better at hiding it than you are.” A smirk crosses Alex’s features. 

“Oh fuck you,” Michael playfully jabs, tension easing from his shoulders like Alex had hoped. 

“To be honest, I think the moment you’re referring to was in the lunchroom in seventh grade. Isobel had scolded you about something and I just happened to look in your direction. I swear, the color drained from your cheeks. I would be honored to go out with you, Michael.”

A relieved breath is released from him and he glances up at the stars with a smile. 

“I didn’t know you were…queer.”

“I classify myself as bisexual,” Michael responds, turning his eyes back to Alex. “I’m kind of quiet about it. I never thought much about my sexuality, so I guess I just say that I’m bisexual.”

They trade smiles and Alex places his hand on top of Michael’s. “You are really full of surprises.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The obnoxious ring of his phone goes off for the fourth time. It’s only been two minutes since it’s last bing. Max Evans grumbles before reaching over to his night desk. His fingers fumble for his phone and he’s able to answer the call. “Michael? What now?”   
> He’s in the middle of rubbing the sleep from his eyes when the response makes him nearly choke. Annoyance fizzles and dies, allowing shock to takeover. “Woah, woah,” he swings himself out of bed. “Slow down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had wonderful holidays! I officially have an amazing beta, Maddie. She's put up with editing my writing and flailing! Thank you for everyone's patience; I've sort of been a bit unorganized lately. 
> 
> In this chapter, y'all get to FINALLY meet Kyle!

T he obnoxious ring of his phone goes off for the fourth time. It’s only been two minutes since it’s last bing. Max Evans grumbles before reaching over to his night desk. His fingers fumble for his phone and he’s able to answer the call. “Michael? What now?” He’s in the middle of rubbing the sleep from his eyes when the response makes him nearly choke. Annoyance fizzles and dies, allowing shock to takeover. “Woah, woah,” he swings himself out of bed. “Slow down.” He’s not sure if he’s hearing any of this correctly. He must still be sleeping, right? This is all some dream? “Repeat yourself.” There’s a pause as Michael Guerin obeys and Max’s eyes widen in absolute shock. “Holy shit,” he chuckles, covering his mouth a hand. “No. Way. Holy shit, Michael.” 

Yeah he’s dreaming. He must be dreaming. His brother… never came out to him as gay, but he’ll have to hold that conversation with him later. Asking about it over the phone will ruin the moment. “Yeah yeah, come over. I can unlock my window and leave it open for you. And yes, I’ll wake Isobel up. I’m sure she’s going to lose her shit.” 

Once the call ends, he throws open the door and sprints down the hall towards his sister’s room. He doesn’t even knock to announce his presence. Instead, he flicks on the light as he enters. “Isobel, wake up. You won’t believe this.” His enthusiasm isn’t shared by his sister, who gives an irritated groan and rolls over onto her other side. “Isobel, Michael just asked Alex Manes to prom.”

That finally seems to get her attention and she bolts up with widened eyes, “HE WHAT?”

“Michael, our little brother, just asked Alex Manes, the punk kid in our AP United States History class, to prom.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Apparently not. Michael’s on his way here. He just dropped Alex off at home.” 

“Holy shit.” In a flash, she’s out of bed and throwing on a robe before running to the bathroom to fix her hair. 

* * *

“Jesus shit on a cracker!” Michael softly whoops as he plops down onto his older brother’s carpet. Falling back, he stares at the ceiling with a wide grin spread across his features. The rapid falls of socked feet alert him to the oncoming presence of two people before Isobel’s voice even reaches his ears. “Michael, what the hell?”

He raises his head, taking in the appearances of his siblings before waving once and resting down again. He’s giddy, and if this is what it feels like to be high on love, he never wants it to end. “He said yes.” He gives a thumbs up. 

Silence follows before they shut the door and Max sits down on his bed. “I didn’t know you were… you know.”

That seems to be the statement of the hour because Isobel raises an eyebrow as well. “We won’t judge. We’re just confused as to why you never told us.” She adds gently. 

“Partly because you didn’t ask, but mainly because I didn’t feel like it was very important up until now. I’m not gay, well I sort of am. I’m bisexual.”

A synchronized nod from his siblings follow. “Alright,” Max breathes. “But what about this crush on Alex?”

“What about it?”

“You’ve never spoken about it.”

“Shocking right? I’m very good at keeping secrets.” Michael clasps his hands behind his head. 

“Fill me in. I need all of the juicy details.” Isobel almost squeals. “Spill it, Mikey.”

“First of all,” he sits up with an offended pout. “Don’t call me that. We’ve been over this. Secondly, you better hold onto your socks.”

Max rests his elbows on his thighs and she leans against the wall. 

“With a pack of beer, I took him to that skatepark that I notice he goes to a lot. Don’t ask how I got the beer, I can tell you all later. Maybe. But we were sitting up on the high ramp and just having a beer together and talking about families and life. I saw a moment and seized it. There’s really not much more other than that.”

“You didn’t write him a god-awful note?” Isobel shoots a raised eyebrow at Max, who grumbles and rolls his eyes. 

“Nope. But that’s the story.” Michael gives a light clap of his hands. “I have no idea if I’ll sleep. I also asked him to prom and he accepted.”

There’s a pause and the twins exchange looks. A visible expression of confusion crosses his features, “What?” The atmosphere changes so abruptly, throwing him completely out of the loop. “Is it because of the whole queer aspect? I get that you’re worried and everything-”

“It’s not that,” Isobel’s voice is kind as she cuts him off. “Kyle’s going to prom, too, and you know how he gets at school events.”

Homecoming had been almost a disaster when Kyle Valenti had won Homecoming King, adding more fuel to his ego. He had the nerve to kick Alex out of the event, and basically outing him in the process of starting a rumor regarding his sexuality. Ever sincethen, Michael’s had a bone to pick with Valenti. 

“And? He’s not going to boot Alex out. Not this time.”

“Well, Kyle asked Liz out to prom,” Max swallows hard. “I was going to ask her, but I just had to find the right moment. I had been hoping that he wouldn’t be going and I could ask Liz, but I never got the chance. I know they’re dating and everything, but I was really hoping that this would be the year I’d be lucky.” He hangs his head slightly. 

Talk about raining on someone’s parade. 

“Promise me something?”

Michael nods, waiting. 

“That if Kyle goes after Alex, you won’t retaliate?”

It’s a loaded vow. He’s always been protective about Alex and his hatred for Valenti runs deep. 

“Please, Michael.”

Michael takes a long breath. “As much as I would love to punch Valenti’s funny little nose in, I promise.” However, it’s a commitment that he’s not sure he can uphold. 

Isobel changes the tune with an enthusiastic, “Well we gotta find you a suit now since you’re attending!”

“Great,” Michael mumbles. “Shopping.”

“It’ll be fun! Besides, Max needs one anyway.”

“Way to point that out.” Max complains, hiding his face in his hands. “Let me wallow in my sorrow.”

“Can I justgo? Can’t you just choose something?” Michael whines. 

“Enough whining. Max, you’re going with me to prom. And we’re all going suit shopping. Deal with it.”

“I thought you weren’t going to prom.” Max peaks out between his fingers before sitting properly again. “Didn’t Malcom say that you were banned from extracurriculars? Including prom?”

“I got her to change her mind. I’m good like that.” She winks. “But anyway, rest up! We’re going shopping tomorrow. I will drag you two out by the collars of your shirts if I have to!”

A gentle knock at the door makes them all jump and Max clears his throat as he turns his head to face the incoming presence, “Yeah?”

“Maximus, why aren’t you and Izzy sleeping?”Ann Evans peeks her head in before settling her eyes on Michael. “I didn’t know you were coming over! I would have prepared the air mattress for you if I knew!” She’s starts down the hall. “Give me one minute! I’ll have it set up.”

“Don’t worry about it!” Michael calls. “I was just going to leave.”

“It’s late, sweetie. Just say here for the night.”  


There’s no use in arguing and if anything, he is tired from today’s event and the excitement has made him exhausted. However, he still feels like he’s intruding in a place where he doesn’t belong. He doesn’t say anything as she prepares the mattress and properly says goodnight to Isobel, who leaves with a smirk on her face. 

Plopping down on the bed, Michael shimmies underneath the covers dressed in one of Max’s spare pajamas before Ann turns off the lights and slips out the door, letting it shut behind her. Max settles down as well and silence falls over the dark room. Michael’s mind is still soaked with the enthusiasm and success of his accomplishment and he falls asleep with a smile. 

* * *

_ 10 Days Until Prom… _

**Michael:** What r u wearing to prom?

**Alex:** I can’t tell you.

It’s a secret.  🤫

**Michael:** It’s not rainbow suit, right?

Bc I was thinking about a matchingtie.

**Alex:** Funny.  😆

But no.

**Michael:** So u can’t tell me what ur wearing?

**Alex:** No. I can’t do that, HALL.

**Michael:** Fine, Nerd.

**Michael:** Isobel is taking Max and I shopping.

**Michael:** End me.

**Alex:** Oh the horror!

**Alex:** 😜

  


Michael can’t help his chuckle as he slips his phone into the pocket of his jeans, drawing his attention to the matters at hand. Rows and rows of tuxedos rest in front of them and Isobel is occupied, darting in between the isles as she attempts to add more to her collection of items for him to try on. 

“You know it wouldn’t hurt if you helped me,” she snaps, glaring at him for a moment before disappearing for a brief second again. 

“Quite clearly, I think it’s obvious that you have a better idea of what looks appropriate than I do,” he answers honestly. “I mean, something simple would be fine.” Eyeing the gathered suits in her hand is making him nervous. 

“Relax, these are for Max.” 

Michael releases the breath he’s been holding. Thank God. 

“I’m trying to look for something simple for you since you’re so insistent on beingboring.” She holds out the clothes to him. “Give these to Max to try on.” Accepting them, he darts to the fitting rooms and gently knocks on his brother’s door, 

“I have a delivery.” The door opens and Michael hands him the suits. 

“Holy shit,” Max breathes. “She’s really gone out of her way.”

“I am so glad I am not you right now, because that really sucks.”

“Oh shut up!” 

“It’s true,” Michael teases before Isobel is suddenly in his face and shoves three suits into his arms, “Try those on,” she barks and heads back into the clothing section. 

“Damn you pissed her off,” Max chuckles. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing, man.” He retreats into the fitting room besides his brother. “I didn’t say anything. I think she’s on her cycle.” 

“Either that or she’s just generally stressed. You know, she has no idea what she wants to do with her life.”

“We’re still technically in high school.” Michael strips off his shirt and then his pants. “I don’t get it.”

“I figured that not really having a path to chase after is stressful, even if we aren’t in college yet. You’re pursuing Astrophysics with a minor in Mechanical Engineering. Not to mention, you did self-teach yourself guitar and you’re pretty damn good at it. Even our music teacher thinks so and you also know how to read music. I’m majoring in English Studies. Come on, she’s stressed.”

“Sure.” He puts on the tux, struggling with the annoying buttons for a minute. “At least we’ll be together, right? Izzy’s also going to UNM. I’m hopefully that she’ll figure out what she wants to do.” There’s a pause as he looks at himself in the mirror. Running a hand through his curls, he exhales deeply. Damn, he’s probably only going to wear this stupid thing once, right? It’s simple; black and suitable, lacking any sort of flare and character. Perfect for blending in and remaining a wallflower. He might as well just roll with this one and forget about trying on the other ones. Besides, he’s wasted enough time here and he’s starting to get restless. 

“How’s it going in there, boys?” Isobel calls from outside.

“Fine,” they both answer instantly. 

“I found ties! A blue one for Max and a gold one for Michael.”

“Damn, she’s observant,” Michael mumbles under his breath. His favorite color just so happens to be gold and it’s some miracle that she’s noticed. 

Once he’s dressed in normal clothes, he carries out the chosen tux and casually hands it over to his sister who reluctantly accepts it. “So you have no idea what your date’s wearing?” she questions, draping the tie across his shoulders. 

He shakes his head. “Nope. He’s refusing to tell me. Such a kill-joy, right?”

“As long as he doesn’t show up with something other than a proper tux…I guess we’re okay.” She struggles to tie the golden garment before finally figuring it out. “But gold is a good color on you. It suits your eyes.” 

Michael blinks. “Okay then.” 

“Are you meeting up with Alex anytime soon?” 

“I don’t know. We kind of just plan things on the spot.” He resists the urge to tell her about Alex’s father, biting his tongue. “It just works out better that way.”

“Makes sense. Then again, you’ve always been spontaneous, I could never picture Alex being the same way,” she shrugs before stepping back, admiring her handy work. “Yep. Looks perfect.” 

Max steps out of the changing room, with his chosen tux draped over an arm. “I found mine.” He announces with an exhausted breath. Isobel’s eyes dart from the suit to her twin and she raises an eyebrow, “Really? Out of all the ones I chose for you, you didn’t choose the one with the dark blue trim?”

“Uh. Sorry,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I just think this one is better.” He raises his gaze and suddenly finds himself grounded to the floor. Michael follows his eyes and spots Liz Ortecho sitting on the long maroon couch with her earbuds in and her legs lightly bouncing to the song that plays in her ears. 

“Do you mind?” Max whispers to Isobel, handing her his suit before darting off in the direction of his crush. Isobel scoffs before rolling her eyes and glancing at Michael. “Please tell me that you’re not leaving me, too.” 

As if on queue, his phone chimes and he risks a sneak at the message. 

**Alex:** Look to your left.

Michael obeys and catches the slightest glimpse of silver that disappears behind one of the clothing racks. A grin crosses his features and Isobel fixes him with a look that showcases her annoyance. “Thanks, Izzy,” Michael quickly says, briefly kissing her on the cheek and heading off in the direction of the reflection. “You’re the best!” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grumbles, planting her head in the palm of her free hand. 

* * *

He’s lured away from the tuxedos, and it’s only then when Alex makes his full appearance. “Hey, Guerin.” The greeting is soft and cheerful, but Michael can see the slight redness in his eyes. Just below his throat rests dabs of foundation that’s an attempt to cover up new bruises. 

Michael’s smile falters and he suddenly feels cold. He lowers his eyes and exhales deeply. Why does this feel so wrong?

“What’s wrong?” Alex strides up to him, tilting his head to the side like a confused bird. “Are you alright?”

Michael’s fighting back tears and a burst of anger that threatens to escape his hold. He shakes his head, biting back a pathetic whimper. “No. No I’m not okay. God, Alex,” he reaches a hand up, shaking fingers gently brushing against the makeup on the other’s neck. He can make out the faint multi-colored blemishes that almost seem to be in the shape of fingerprints. Alex gives a light flinch at the contact and Michael can feel his heart give a painful ache. “Why does he do this to you?”

“My old man has some… disagreements with who I am and can’t accept the fact that he can’t do a damn thing about it. Tough luck for him.”

“Still,” Michael withdraws his hand. “He can’t do this to you. It’s… barbaric.” 

“He has this image of me becoming a perfectly crafted Manes man. All of the men in my family have been or are in the military. They’re straight too, with the solid agenda of defending this country. Going to war and braving the terrors overseas and becoming a hero.” He shakes his head. “It’s not who I’m meant to be. Dad’s always had a hard hand.”

“And what about your mom?”

Alex’s breath hitches in his throat and Michael feels a bang of guilt, “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.” He clears his throat and changes the subject, not wanting to linger on the topic any longer. “So what brings you to the mall this fine evening?”

“Uh,” Alex shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Honestly, I just needed some fresh air, away from Flint and Nathan. I swear all they take about is the military and it’s actually pissing me off. I know what they’re talking about but it’s sort of like they’re speaking in military code for different stuff. It gets annoying after awhile.” Alex flicks an eyebrow up with a smirk. “I promise, I wasn’t stalking you or anything.”

“Alex Manes? A stalker?” Michael laughs. “Man, you don’t look like the type.” 

“So, what brings you here?”

“Prom, but I’m not telling you anything else.”

“You tease.”

“I mean it’s only fair. You won’t tell me what you’re wearing.”

“My lips are still sealed.”

“Fine, then so are mine.”

Michael’s phone vibrates and he slips it out of his pocket, 

**Isobel:** Going home- coming with or staying with ur man?

He doesn’t even hesitate in the choice.

**Michael:** Option 2. cu later

“So…is there anything you want to do?” Alex asks once Michael place this phone back. “I assume you’re staying. I noticed you ditched your siblings for me. That’s very kind of you.”

“I have no idea. But you look like you could use some ice cream.”

“Do you have money on you?” 

“Yep,” Michael fishes out $40 from his jacket. “You paying on your own?”

“Yeah, I am.” Alex starts towards the entrance to the mall and Michael’s quick to follow. It’s relatively quiet with the occasional crowds passing them by without a second glance. He itches with the urge to hold Alex’s hand and he catches himself almost giving in multiple times. The two of them must appear so out of place. A single diamond stud rests in Alex’s left earlobe and Michael finds himself awing it, “Hey, the earring is a nice touch. I’m surprised it’s not a black diamond to fit your dark color scheme.”

“I thought about it but didn’t end up resorting to it. Oh man, but you should have seen the look on my dad’s face this morning when I walked out with it on.” Alex laughs with the recollection coming back to the front of his mind. “I swear all of the color just disappeared from his face. I mean, he’s pale as a sheet of paper but it was priceless.”

“I can only imagine. Your dad is a... ?”

“Master Sergeant of the Air Force. He has a lot resting on his shoulders and honestly raising a household of four boys must not be easy.”

Michael glances over, taking in the way Alex’s form seems to be lacking its usual confidence that normally radiates from him like the sun’s heat. His shoulders are slumped forward and he appears to be holding himself in a way that makes him look smaller. What a difference a single night could do. It jars him and he find his eyes constantly drawn to the bruises dotting Alex’s throat. 

They enter the ice cream shop and it takes them less than a minute to order. In that exact moment, Michael Guerin learns the expression Alex has when he’s struggling to decide on something.

Seated on the edge of a nearby fountain, he takes his first bite of the chocolate chip cookie dough that’s presented to him by Alex and offers him his own mint chip. They’re relatively close—close enough that Michael could lightly tap the other boy’s foot with his own if he so wished. It’s painfully domestic and the people around them could just view them as friends (even though they are anything but). It’s probably better than facing the consequences of being overly bold. 

“She left when I was four ,” Alex suddenly speaks up and Michael is jerked out his thoughts. His brow furrows in confusion.“Who?”

“Mom. I barely have a memory of her, but I do know that Dad used to hit her. I get my skin tone from her,” he glances down at his arms before taking another bite. “She’s Cherokee and Dad’s white. Apparently, I seem to carry more of her traits than the rest of my brothers. Her kind heart and fire. From Mimi, I heard that she used to be a spitfire.”

“I guess that’s where you get your sass too, huh? If you’re saying all these positive things about your mom that you’ve heard from other people, then I am really glad you turned out more like her. Did you ever think about trying to find her?”

“Yeah, I have. I actually ran away from home last year towards the end of spring break. I found her name and tried to find her, but I wasn’t successful. Dad ended up tracking me down. I missed the return to school because of what happened. I never ran away again.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone about this, but I really wish I could, Alex. What he’s doing to you is illegal and someone needs to put a stop to it.” Michael’s insistent and it pains him every time he has to keep his mouth shut about the matter. He itches to tell anyone who would be willing to help, but the consequences could be dire for Alex. Caught at a crossroads, he’s been forced to bite his tongue. 

“But you now know why I’ve been absent from school. And I can understand how this is unsettling, but I’ve kinda just adjusted to living like this.”

Michael almost chokes. “Alex, no. Don’t you want some justice? Get mad!”

“I am mad and don’t worry, I am rebelling. This,” he gestures to his attire, “is me being defiant. He despises what I wear, but quite frankly, I’m making him deal with it.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Michael answers softly before he finishes his ice cream and sets the cup aside. “I hate what he’s doing to you.” He leans his head on Alex’s shoulder and sighs softly at the hand that runs through his curls. 

“I know you do. But this is something I have to deal with on my own.”

Michael closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of fingers caressing his scalp, ignoring the stares from strangers, “Promise me something?”

“Hm?”

“That you’ll call me if you need anything?”

“I promise.”

* * *

_ 5 Days Until Prom… _

  


Something he doesn’t quite understand is the mechanics of how exactly Alex is able to perform such elegant tricks in air. Seated on a bench, Michael watches in awe as he skates through the park. The morning sun beats down on them, but neither of the boyscare about possibly getting burnt. Alex seems too flawless and he makes it appear easy, using the ramp’s surface as a tool for a U-turn. It’s incredible, and Michael would do just about anything to know what it feels like to catch air on a skateboard.

“How many hours do you practice?” 

Alex rolls to a stop, putting his foot down. “Uh, normally until the sun goes down if I don’t want to be home, which is like… almost everyday.” 

“So what does a normal day look like to you?”

“Hm...If it’s a school day, I wake up at around 5 a.m. and make myself breakfast before running out the door to catch the bus, which I’ve only missed once. After classes, I hang out with Maria and Liz and do homework with them. Sometimes, I’m allowed to spend the night with Liz and Rosa, but that’s only if Dad’s out of town. I’ll spend a few hours at the skatepark or head to the Wild Pony to preform. It depends. But the weekends are filled with the Ortechos, Maria and her mother, and the drive-in theater.” There’s a short-lived pause. “Hey, you should come with me to the drive in theater on tonight. I think Liz is bringing Kyle. Mimi won’t let any fights break out.”

“You think Ms. DeLuca will be okay with that? Me coming along? She doesn’t really know me.” 

“She doesn’t know Kyle very well either, besides what I have told her, which really doesn’t paint a good photo.”

“Have you told her about me?”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t worry.” Alex presses his foot to one end of the skateboard so it comes to rest upright against his shin. “It’s all good things.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Michael leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. A particular glimmer in hazel eyes is reflected as he takes in the beautiful spectacle in front of him, Alex Manes, and all of his glory. A warm smile spreads across his lips and he wonders how the hell he exists. 

“So would you be willing to come along with me?” Alex inquires, picking his board with a slight wince that Michael forces himself to ignore.

“I would love to. But I am disappointed that I can’t throw a punch at Kyle’s face.” He grumbles, “He deserves it. I keep seeing that scene in Junior year when Kyle basically threw you across the hallway.”

“He didn’t throw me.”

“You caught air. It counts.”

“He struggled. It was funny.” 

“It wasn’t funny when you hit the ground.”

“But I got up, didn’t I? I’m not going to go down without a fight. I’m kind of conditioned that way.” 

Michael hates that he now knows the reason why, but settles for attempting to keep the topic lighter. “So, when is the movie?”

“At 7 p.m. I won’t be going home, so I guess you could just drive me there. I did notice that you were running low on gas so I can take care of that.”

“Alex, you don’t have to,” Michael tries. 

But Manes is just as persistent as always, fixing him with a look of reassurance. “Don’t worry, I owe you.”

  


* * *

Mimi’s eyes stare right into Michael’s very being and he feels uncomfortable—like an insect under a microscope. Alex laughs at the interaction, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Mama DeLuca, he’s okay. Calm down.”

She hums softly, acknowledging Alex before narrowing her eyes and standing up straight, “My boy, I just have to make sure he has no ill intentions.”

“C’mon, Mom,” Maria rolls her eyes. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Mimi mumbles something and ruffles Michael’s curls with her hand, drawing a whine of annoyance from the boy.

“Where’s Liz?” Alex wonders out loud as he checks his watch. “It’s 6:57.” He hoists himself onto Michael’s tailgate and stands up, surveying the area with a hand shielding the sunlight from his eyes. 

“She’s coming with Kyle,” Maria sighs as she takes a swig of beer. “She’s obviously going to be late.”

Michael glances up at Alex with a warm smile, “You doing okay?” 

“Yep. You?” 

“Same here.” He replies before Maria shoves a beer into his hands. 

“It’s gonna be a long night with Kyle here so I suggest you start drinking.” She says before gently tossing a bottle to Alex who gracefully catches it, “Thanks Maria.” He takes a sip, letting out a pleased exhale. 

“So you don’t like Kyle either?” Michael questions as Maria takes a seat next to him. 

“Nope. I hate him. Afterall, no one pushes my punk,” she playfully slaps the back of Alex’s shin, “around and gets away with it. Even dating my best friend isn’t going to change anything.” She leans in close to Michael, whispering, “If I throw an empty bottle at him, defend my honor.” 

“Maria DeLuca!” Mimi shouts with a raised eyebrow and a stern expression. “I didn’t raise you that way. I don’t like Kyle either but that doesn’t mean we can’t try and be tolerable of his presence.” 

“I will be tolerating his obnoxiously oversized ego unless he punches Alex.” Michael says with a slight growl. 

Alex chuckles and ruffles Michael’s curls. “Down, boy. Down.” 

“Why is my hair so tempting for people to mess with?”

“It’s just a mess.” Maria comments. “And it’s fun to mess it up more.”

Michael makes a face that causes her to nearly snort on a mouthful of beer. “Don’t squirt beer out your nose, DeLuca.” 

“Oh, shut up!”

Alex brushes a strand of hair out of his face as he spots another car approaching. It’s speeding, and in the driver’s seat, he can make out the sight of Kyle withLiz by his side. “Great,” he grumbles before hopping down off of the tailgate. “I’ll take High School Clichés for $500, Mr. Trebek.” 

Michael turns his head and inhales deeply, placing his hands on his hips. “Here we go.” 

Maria takes one look before finishing her bottle of beer, chugging it down as if it was just water. Liz and Kyle pull to a stop in a slight dust cloud and the two exit the car. He and Alex exchange a long look of narrowed eyes before Kyle suddenly turns pleasant towards everyone else. He greets Mimi with a proper handshake and a smile that’s able to whisk almost any sensible woman off her feet. Maria simply waves “Hello” but gets off of her seat to embrace Liz in a tight hug. 

Kyle makes his way to Michael, “Guerin, right?” He holds out a hand. 

Michael nods, “Yeah. Michael Guerin. I know you, Kyle Valenti.” He keeps his tone neutral and accepts the handshake. Kyle gives it a very firm squeeze and Michael has to suppress a surprised wince before the connection is broken. Rubbing his hand, Michael turns to Alex and takes another breath. The two boys shake heads and Michael climbs into his truck, reversing it so that way he’s resting slightly behind Kyle’s orange sedan. Mimi boots up the old projector and joins her daughter in the trunk of the minivan. 

Hopping up onto the tailgate of the truck, Alex finishes his bottle of beer before Maria meets his eyes. With practiced skill, she tosses another beer to Alex in a graceful underhand toss. He follows the object with his eyes, tracking the trajectory, and easily catches it in his hands. “Nice one,” he grins before using a bottle opener he takes out of his pocket and taking a seat. Michael joins him and their feet dangle off the lift. 

The previews to the movie start playing across the massive screen and he glances over to Liz, noticing how freely she and Kyleshowcase their relationship status with hand holding and subtle signs of affection. He swallows and lowers his eyes to his hands. It’s unfair how freely heterosexuals are able to publicly display their devotion, compared to homosexuals. Michael never understood the oppression that lovers of the same-sex experienced. 

“Hey, Michael?” Alex’s voice draws his attention and he answers with a slight hum. “Do you”—Alex fumbles with his bracelets as if unsure whether or not to continue—“I don’t know, ever feel a sense of guilt or… I don’t want to say shame…” He’s struggling to find the right words to finish his sentences. 

Luckily, Michael comes to his rescue. “I get what you’re saying, Alex. But sometimes? It’s complicated. In this world, we’re so afraid of being criticized and ridiculed for who we love that we forget that we’re all people trying to love.”

“Trepidation,” Alex breathes. “Yeah, I sometimes I do feel shame in who I am or who I’m attracted to but I think that simply has to do with my home life.”

Michael places his hand over Alex’s and smiles softly. “I don’t care if anyone judges. Because right now, it’s just you and me and everyone else should just mind their own damn business, Manes.”

“I didn’t know you could be so brave,” Alex lightly teases as Michael takes a gulp of his beer. 

“Oh, this is nothing,” he winks. “Trust me, if you ask Max, he’d say that I’m a ‘reckless and bullheaded idiot.’” 

“Maybe he’s partly right. Then again, you always have ways of surprising me.” 

Their eyes lock and Michael finds himself caught up in Alex’s dark mocha orbs. They’re alive and spirited, filled with a sense of wildness that reflects in a defiant spark. Laughter suddenly sounds from both of the two boys, seated comfortably on the tailgate. A flush creeps up Michael’s cheeks. The sound of Alex’s joy makes his heart fly. 

“It seems like Kyle’s behaving,” Michael observes. 

“I think it’s because Liz is present. He always puts on a ‘good boy’ persona when she’s around. Honestly, it’s just fabricated to hide the fact that he’s an actual dick. God…” Alex takes another sip. “She deserves someone so much better than that asshat.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I’m thinking… of someone tall, who loves poetry and writing and is also in her AP Bio class.”

Alex’s brow furrows. “Did you just describe your brother?”

Michael nods. 

“Oh.” He considers the image for a moment. “Yeah, they’d work out pretty well. At least Max is a big softie and not an egotistical bully.”

“My point exactly. Besides, I can bet that no one in this school can recite every single Shakespeare play off the top of his head.”

Alex gives an amused snort. “Oh my god. That’s ridiculous.”

“Some chicks would dig it.” He shrugs. “I haven’t met any though. Other than Tess.”

“She’s literally all over him. How has he not noticed?”

“I have no clue. For everything Max is worth, he sure lacks in observational skills sometimes.”

Alex turns his hand over so their palms are comfortable touching. “Do he and Isobel know? About us?”

“Yeah, I should have asked you if it was okay for me to tell them—”

“No, it’s fine. I can trust Max to stay quiet. It’s your sister I’m worried about.”

“Isobel? Nah, she knows to keep it a secret.” Teasingly, he reaches over and places his finger on Alex’s lips. 

As expected, he playfully responds with snapping his teeth at the finger like a teething puppy. Michael’s fast enough to withdraw with a laugh sounding from both of them. “No biting.” He pokes Alex’s nose and is met with the same reaction of flashing whites. “No, bad Alex.”

The two boys are caught in a fit of giggles and giddiness entangles itself in their atmosphere. Warmth settles in Michael’s stomach and he’s positive that it has nothing to do with the alcohol. He’s so stupidly in love with Alex Manes that the butterflies in his body just refuse to scatter and disappear. If this is what being in love feels like, then he never wants it to end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys know the drill! Leave Kuddos and comments and please share this story!

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr now so please give me a [follow](https://captalexmanes.tumblr.com/). I tend to scream about Alex Manes, Malex, and Tyler Blackburn a lot so please join me in the madness of my rambles and crying. I'm also looking for a beta so please contact me on Tumblr if you're interested!


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